Painful mistakes
by Dae the Shadow
Summary: Another story about young Legolas. Mistakes that he and his father had made could cost the prince’s life.


Summery: Another story about young Legolas. Mistakes that he and his father had made could cost the prince's life.

Painful mistakes

Legolas was fuming with rage, striding through the forest in a swift pace. He had never seen his father so mad before. Young prince could not forget the strange glint in the king's eyes, his lips pressed in a tight line and the expression of a great disappoint that he could easily read. Legolas knew well that their family had a hard times after the queen's death and Thranduil being a king had the problems of a whole realm on top of his grief. Especially now, when evil was pressing hard, covering their once fair forest with the thick shadow, eating the light inch by inch. Still, Legolas could not understand why he was to be the target for his father's anger. In human terms he was fourteen. A teenager who needed love and reassurance but received disapproval and anger instead. He had lost his mother after all!

Legolas knew that he was far from being a good warrior, but he was skilled enough to survive in the woods on his own. Anyway, it was better than to stay in the palace, receiving his father's furious looks and bold words whatever he do.

Actually, young elf was aware that he did stupid thing leaving the palace alone, but he could stay there no more. He needed to spend some time alone, to collect his thoughts and feelings, figuring out if he still has a place to call home.

Legolas knew not how long was he running. He slowed his pace realizing that he must have gone far away from the palace. Light feeling of danger washed through him, tickling his nerves and sending chilling shivers down his spine. He cursed himself inwardly for being so careless. Praying that he could still avoid whatever was threatening to happen, he stealthily moved among the trees, his senses sharpened. But only few minutes later he understood that it was in vain. He had been noticed.

They were humans. And by the sound of it, many of them. Too many for a young elf to handle. Yet, Legolas was a son of the stubborn and proud warrior and he would better die in the fight then willingly surrender himself to his foes. With the determination shining on his pale face, young prince prepared to fight for his life till victory or death.

If Thranduil was there, he would be proud of his son. Legolas fought well. That was his first real fight, but the outside observer would be convinced that the elf in front of him was a well trained warrior despite his youthful appearance. Legolas didn't want to kill this humans. It was wrong. They weren't supposed to be their enemies. Elves would kill orcs, wargs and spiders for they were the results of the work of evil. But humans were children of Iluvatar as well, the race that had rights to live in Middle Earth no lesser than elves did.

Yet, his life was at the rate and the prince was eager to keep it. He managed to wound few of his attackers and was holding a good defense against the others when suddenly a pain exploded at his shoulder. Legolas cried out softly when the sword that had pierced his arm was jerked out. That did hurt. Valar, he had never received wounds like that before! While he was trying to subdue the pain something hard hit the back of his head and the world went spinning before it blackened out completely.

XXX

"Well met, Elrond." Thranduil greeted his friend although his heart was far from being at peace.

"Nice to see you too, my friend." Elrond replied smiling. "How things are going in your kingdom?"

Thranduil sighed knowing Elrond too well. Elven lord had obviously sensed his discomfort.

"Far from well." He admitted. "I guess I'm loosing my son, Elrond. I have been very hard on him..."

He shook his head. Elrond had always managed to dig the well hidden feelings and worries out of him.

"Why don't you just tell me all of it?" The lord of Imladris suggested.

Thranduil smiled gratefully and nodded. He looked around frowning. Where was Legolas? That boy could be angry with him, but he knew his responsibilities as a prince.

The king called a servant. "Bring us something light to eat." He ordered. "And find the prince."

The servant bowed in respect and hurried away. Thranduil offered Elrond a sit in the comfortable armchair while

placing himself in another. The Imladris' lord could clearly see the fatigue and inner pain on the face of the king. He sighed. The tragedy of loosing a queen was still fresh for the Mirkwood kingdom.

"Let me help, my friend." He asked softly, putting a comforting arm at the king's shoulder.

"As I has already told, Elrond, I'm loosing my son. We are arguing a lot. He became more rebellious and I have a hard time with all the shadows that are hanging over Mirkwood... I know that sometimes I'm unjust with him, but I can't help it."

Elrond frowned in concern. It seemed that there were more than one problem in this kingdom. A knock at the door broke the line of his thoughts. Thranduil whipped his head up.

"Come in."

A servant entered the room. By the look of his pale face and slightly trembling hands, the news he brought were ill.

"My Lord." He bowed respectfully, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry, my lords, but young prince is missing."

Thranduil was about to tell the servant something harsh for interrupting, but suddenly the meaning of the words registered in his brain.

"What do you mean, he's missing?" He roared standing up.

The elf in front him flinched a bit, paling even more. "He is nowhere to be found and his weapons and traveling clothes are gone." He said, barely controlling himself.

Elrond frowned. That was bad. He place a hand on the king's shoulder taking his attention away from the servant. The elf almost sighed with relief.

"Thranduil, we'd better find him quick." Elrond told firmly. "On my way here I heard the news about large gangs of humans. They had already attacked some villages and few elves had disappeared without a trace while working in the forest. I think those gangs are working for slave traders."

King's face paled at this words. He turned to the servant.

"Send for my captains."

XXX

Legolas opened his eyes. Pain in his shoulder and throbbing in his head were merciless. He found himself being banded and laying near the tree. Two pairs of legs came in his view, but he has no strength or desire to lift his head and see his captors.

"Look, who's awake!" One of the men kicked him in the side, anger and hatred evident in his voice. "Little bastard."

"Easy, Kirc." Another voice told. "He'd be better alive for us."

Legolas could feel the displeasure of the man called Kirc. But the second one must be their leader. The elf took a deep breath in spite of the dull pain in his side and turned his face toward his captors, careful to place as much defiance and fury in his sight, as he can.

He looked the two humans over. One of them was tall and muscular, his arms and face badly scarred. By the expression on his face, it was Kirc. The other one was smaller, but something in his stature spoke about his power and deadly danger. The man smirked. He pulled Legolas into sitting position, pressing his back against the tree.

"Who are you? What are you doing in this forest?" Legolas asked, staring at the human's angrily.

Kirc backhanded him violently.

"You are in no position to ask questions, little elf." The leader hissed, grabbing the collar of the elf's shirt and squeezing it tightly. "What is your name?"

Legolas pressed his lips in a tight line, one that he had seen so many times at his father's face. The men backhanded him again, slightly irritated by the lack of fear at his captive's face. But Legolas kept silent, looking at his captors as if he was going to burn them, warm blood trickling down his face from his nose.

"Answer!" The man shouted, pressing his back into the tree trunk to the point when Legolas could barely breath.

But the elf didn't speak, grim determination at his face. He knew that if this people whoever they were would know that he was an elven king's son, it would be worse then if they torture him or kill.

The leader of the humans glared at him for a minute or two. Than he shoved the elf back to the ground and turned to his companion.

"Alright, Kirc. Have your time. Make him understand his situation, but do no damage beyond repair. We need him good enough for sale."

With that the man was gone, leaving Legolas at the mercy of Kirc. Now the elf was truly frightened. Legolas saw the evil glint in the man's eyes when he came near and the wide cruel smile that played his lips. But what scared him even more were the last words of the leader. Being sold? Oh Valars!

XXX

Large group of elven warriors were moving through the forest. Thranduil was gently holding a broken bow that was his son's favorite weapon. Ever since they've found the traces of a fierce battle, the king spoke to no one. Elrond looked at his friend worriedly.

"Oh, Elrond, what have I done?" Thranduil whispered in despair. "Legolas is now in the hands of a cold-blooded slave traders. And all because of me."

"Don't blame yourself."

''How can I help it?" Thranduil exclaimed, his calm facade shattered to pieces. "Ever since his mother's death he had no real home within the palace walls."

"Calm yourself, my friend." Elrond said firmly. "You both had made mistakes. But let us concentrate on finding Legolas, so that you would be able to settle things."

Tranduil nodded tiredly. "I'm sorry, Elrond. i just can't loose my child, especially when I can loose my kingdom any minute." He than lifted his head high, a new spark in his eyes. "But I swear that when we find this blasted humans, they will pay dearly for harming my son."

XXX

Legolas regained consciousness once more. It was almost dawn now, the darkness of the night swiftly fading to the gray twilight. He could not make his brain work properly. His whole body ached like never before. He could not clearly remember those few hours he spent with Kirc. All that was carved in his mind was pain, pain and even more pin. He wished to believe that it was no more than a nightmare, a figment of his imagination, but it was not. And violent agony stabbing through his body was the brightest prove to that. Kirc was angry because Legolas wounded him during the fight in the forest and almost killed his brother. Even though this human wasn't producing an impression of a sentimental person, his pride was hurt. And that was the main cause for his anger. But Legolas also suspected that his obviously sadistic inclinations play a large part in that as well. Kirc whipped and beaten young elf until he passed out. And then he awoke him and beaten once more. Legolas though could be proud with himself. They didn't break his spirit. His body was badly injured, his face stained with tears, but inside he was still an elven prince, not the slave. And not even death would change it.

He was laying still, in pain and fatigue. The greatest wish he had was to go back in time and tell his father that he understand his duties as a king and is aware of a great burden that Thranduil was caring all by himself. And that he never wanted to disappoint him, never wanted to hurt. But would he have a chance to explain it?

Humans in the camp started to wake. Legolas watched in disgust as they eat their meal and gather things preparing to move on. He had never actually seen an orc camp, but he doubted that it could look more filthier.

Quick steppes approached him and Legolas looked up ready to see Kirc. But it was Arbag, the leader.

"I see that Kirc've done a nice work." The man smirked. And added thoughtfully. "But didn't break you. Who are you, boy?"

"I will tell you nothing." Legolas said firmly, his jaw muscles tensed.

He expected to be backhanded. But to his surprise the grin on the man's face widened.

"You may not." He nodded. "But tell me, how many elflings in your city would be searched by the king himself, young prince?"

Legolas's eyes widened in horror. Things were getting worse. But from the other hand, now he knew that his father was searching for him. And nothing will stop the stubborn king from finding him. But would it be soon enough for saving him? All this thoughts rushed through his head in an instant. But they were cut off by the Arbag's voice.

"Stand up, elf." He cut the rope around Legolas' ankles. "You'd better keep a good pace."

Legolas winced in pain when he was jerked to his feet. He was wavering unsteadily after being bound for hours, if not to mention that his whole body hurt. He was stumbling, often receiving a push, kick or struck of the whip as a punishment. His hands were bound in chains as well as his feet. The chain was heavy, long enough for him to walk but too short for an escape. Very soon the young elf was moving, led only by reflexes, his mind registering nothing but the pain and fatigue.

They stopped twice this day. Humans had had their meal and rest but Legolas was left without food or water. He was all but ignored. Ignored by everyone except for Kirc. The man smiled cruelly each time his eyes met Legolas's and young elf knew that this evening will bring him more pain.

XXX

Tranduil and Elrond rode into the clearing, followed by the rest of the troops.

"They were camping here." The king said, observing the remains of the human camp.

"Aye, they were." Elrond agreed and came near one of the trees, frowning.

He traced one of the fresh scratches, that decorated it's trunk.

"This was left by the chain." he said.

Thranduil placed his palm on the trunk and closed his eyes.

"My son was with them." He said softly. "Chained and in pain."

He touched the ugly brown stain. It was blood. Legolas' blood.

"They will pay." Thranduil stated, ordering his warriors to move on.

King's words displayed such a threat that Elrond frowned. Yet the elven lord knew that he would do the same.

XXX

Legolas moaned softly shifting into more comfortable position, although it was hard to find one. He was weary, exhausted and in a great pain. He knew not how much longer he could bear such a treatment. He was semi-conscious most of the time. Being forced to move with this men took mostly all his physical strength and the beatings that were interleaved with the same question were draining not only his body, but also his spirit. "Do you have a master?" Kirc and Arbag would ask him from time to time during their "interrogations". No, Legolas opened his eyes with a rage shining in them. He has no muster and never would he be forced to become a slave. Not even death can change it. He looked at the piece of sky that was visible through the treetops. It had already been touched by the first rays of the rising sun. The elf sighed. Soon he will have to make his abused body move once more. Where was his father? Legolas felt a tear rolling down his cheek. He could not believe that this humans could have fooled Mirkwood elves with their false tracks. But why didn't they rescue him? A thought came to him, but Legolas swept her away. No, his father couldn't be too disappointed with him to simply leave him here, could he? This thought was more painful then Kirc's fist at some point, for it stabbed right into his heart.

Suddenly a soft sound from the trees behind caught his attention. It was almost inaudible, but somehow Legolas was convinced that it wasn't a natural one. He looked at the guards and noticed that they had heard nothing. A glint of hope warmed his heart. Could it be his father?

XXX

Two scouts joined the main group of warriors. Their faces were grim and sad.

"We found the camp." One of them said, bowing.

"Did you see my son?" Thranduil asked calmly.

"Yes, my lord." The other nodded and added. "He is hurt."

"Show the way." Was the short order.

It didn't take long for them to reach the human's camp. Elrond moved forward and almost gasped as he caught the first sight of Legolas. He than turned to see his friend's face. Thranduil's rage was mostly visible in the early dawn. He watched his only son beaten and putted in chains.

"Attack!" He ordered softly, his voice cold like the steel of his sword. "Show no mercy."

XXX

Legolas heard sharp whistle of the arrows, cutting the morning silence; frantic shouts of the men that were grabbing their weapons. But all sounds seemed to be muffled. He felt everything spinning, his vision blurred as if his tormented mind was unable to catch up with the pace of the world around him. He knew there was a fierce fight between elves and humans, but could not tell them apart. He believed he had seen Arbag falling down, killed by lord Elrond's sword. But right now he wasn't sure he could tell apart the human and an orc.

Within seconds half of the men were killed with elven arrows. The others were soon defeated too. But somewhere in the middle of the fight Kirc found his way to the prisoner.

"Make them stop, little bastard!" He growled dangerously.

"You've lost." Legolas stated softly, too tired even to be afraid.

"May be, but their effort would be for nothing."

The man placed the dagger to the elf's throat, drawing blood. Cruel sadistic smile appeared at his lips. Legolas felt strangely apathetic. He knew he was going to die, but he had no strength to stop it, no strength to be scared. Suddenly Kirc's face became a mask of pain and horror as a blade cut his heart. Legolas gasped both in surprise and relief. Last thing he saw before consciousness finally left him was his father's worried face.

XXX

"Tell me that he will be alright." Thranduil kneeled down next to the Elrond. The later had already removed chains and was examining young prince's wounds. Legolas was wearing only his leggings that were torn and filthy. His body was covered with so many injuries, one's eye could hardly count. Whip marks, cuts and bruises were laying one on top of another.

"He has an arrow wound in the left shoulder, his right shoulder is dislocated. Three ribs are broken, five more are badly bruised. Some cuts and whip marks got infected." Elrond listed, his voice tensed with grief. "I suspect him to have mild concussion as well."

Thranduil swore, his fists clenched so tightly that the knuckles turned white. Although his face showed little emotions, inside Elrond felt like killing all this foul humans once more. Or twice... And he knew Tranduil felt ten times worse.

"I need a fire and fresh water." Elrond sighed gaining control over his emotions enough to get to his work. Legolas needed help. And he needed it swiftly.

XXX

Legolas became aware of the soft warm blankets surrounding him. Despite the pain he felt relatively comfortable. But that made no sense. Was his mind playing games with him? He was captive of the humans... Then he remembered. The fight between his captors and elves, Kirc, who was threatening him and finally his father's grim face before passing out. Sudden urgency to see Thranduil, to speak with him, to tell all those things he had feared he wouldn't be able to ever tell won the battle with pain and he opened his eyes. Oh Valars, his body hurt so mach! Legolas blinked clearing his vision. He stared at the green foliage above him barely breathing, waiting for the pain to lessen. Summoning strength he turned his head to side, moaned slightly as the cut at his neck send waves of pain.

"Easy, Legolas." Elrond said gently, immediately coming to the child's side. "Lay still. I'll give you something to dull the pain."

Legolas wanted to nod but he feared that it would hurt even more, so he closed his eyes wearily. What was lord Elrond doing here? Where was his father? Was Thranduil still mad at him? Has he saved a prince or a son? This questions were tearing his exhausted mind, eating his heart and soul bit by bit. It was too much to bear on top of the cruel treatment he had endured during his captivity. A lonely tear rolled down the child's cheek.

"Quiet, child. You are safe now." Elrond whispered, touching prince's cheek, his heart aching to see the pain in a young elf's face. But what concerned him even more, was the pain hidden inside Legolas' heart.

"Ada?" Legolas whispered in a weak, hoarse voice, barely suppressing violent sobs that had squeezed his throat.

This question hold so much pain, hope and sorrow that Elrond winced.

"He went to speak to his captains few minutes ago." He told softly. Seeing the tears in Legolas' eyes, he added "I will call him."

"No. Do not."

Legolas turned his head away from elven lord, even if it caused him pain. Elrond frowned at this words and motioned for one of the warriors to call Thranduil. Only now he started to realize the full seriousness of the problems, which plagued Mirkwood and it's royal family.

XXX

Thranduil kneeled beside Legolas. His heart was torn apart with grief both from his son's state and their resent arguments. He wanted to apologize, to let his son see, that he still loved him. The king took one of the thin hands in his own, careful not to disturb the bandage that was hiding raw wounds from chains.

"Legolas." He called gently, looking at the pale face of his son, pleading him to open his eyes.

"Yes, Ada."

The reply was filled with pain that echoed the one in king's heart. But it also contained steel notes, the one that stabbed at Thranduil's heart like knives.

"Were you hurt badly?" He found himself asking.

"I was." Legolas opened his big blue eyes, staring at the face of his father and king, almost expecting to see disapproval there. He was surprised and startled to see the pain and guilt instead.

"I'm sorry for what I've told you back at the palace." Thranduil sighed. "I should have been more attentive to you. My blindness had almost cost your life."

"Ada, don't blame yourself, please!" Legolas whispered brokenly, tears of relief rolling down his cheeks.

"I can't help it, my son. I was in a deep grief and with all the shadows... But I had no right to blame you for that."

Legolas rose his shaking hand to touch the king's face. The pain the movement had caused was great and his vision started darkening once more. But his heart was singing. Legolas smiled weakly.

"I love you, Ada." He whispered feeling consciousness fleeing from him.

The king caught his son's hand as it fell limply to the ground. He kissed it gently, his own tears staining soft skin.

"I love you too, my son."

The End.


End file.
